


we will never be satisfied

by procrastinatingbookworm



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Pining, Relationship of Convenience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 14:17:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10968951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastinatingbookworm/pseuds/procrastinatingbookworm
Summary: They find each other in the crowd, reach out in silent desperation and tangle their fingers together. He whispers, soft and slurred and jagged, "you too, huh?" and she closes her eyes and lets him lead her away, down hallways, through doors, somewhere hidden, secluded.





	we will never be satisfied

They're dissimilar, it defines them.

He's a soldier boy, full of passion and defiance and fire, with a quiet love curling like a vine between his lungs, nearly drowned by the well of pain-drawn strength he steeps his heart in.

She's a rich man's daughter; a woman with a fierce strength and a streak of pride, a determined sort of tiredness in her, a refusal to be lesser than anyone.

They fight different battles, wage different wars, live different lives. They meet by accident, in mutual love, but not with each other.

John Laurens and Angelica Schuyler, painfully, helplessly, hopelessly, endlessly, ruinously in love with Alexander Hamilton.

She is her sister's maid of honor, he is his closest friend's best man.  They give speeches, propose toasts, force smiles, drink a little too much. Champagne, wine, beer. Fancier spirits. The buzz takes the edge off, numbs the persistent ache.

They find each other in the crowd, reach out in silent desperation and tangle their fingers together. He whispers, soft and slurred and jagged, "you too, huh?" and she closes her eyes and lets him lead her away, down hallways, through doors, somewhere hidden, secluded.

He presses her to the wall, squeezes his eyes shut, rests their foreheads together. Breathes.

"You can...." he flushes, and she thinks he might be attractive, two shades of honey, dark and heavy in his hair, coppery and bright in his freckled skin, blushing red-bronze. "You can call me by his name."

She realizes what he's offering, turns as red as he, and before she can bother to think, crushes their mouths together. His lips part, his hands go to her hips, curl in the fabric of her dress, moans a name that isn't hers.

His teeth catch on her bottom lip, and she snarls the same name back at him, and he takes her right there, in the empty room, far from the wedding, far from her sister and his friend, making loveless love against the wall.

It's not the last time, that first time, far from it. Hamilton and Laurens visit the Schuylers, they sneak away.

They never fall in love, never once call the right name, never once open their eyes until it's over.

"You too, huh?" He says again, one night. They're drunk again, crying again, tired again, unsatisfied always.

"Me too." She says painfully, and kisses cheek, working across his jaw until their mouths meet in a filthy kiss, and his hands work off her corset.

He goes to South Carolina, she goes to London. He, in a casket, she, in a wedding ring.

She does not miss him, bites down on the name, the name they used, shared, abused, and does not miss him.

 

"me too." she says to the empty air.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I did this either.


End file.
